


Mirror, Mirror

by hiddenlongings



Series: Reflections [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Clint Needs a Hug, Developing Relationship, Eating Disorders, Fix-It, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Past Child Abuse, hearing loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenlongings/pseuds/hiddenlongings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only person who had ever hugged Clint was his mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror, Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to 'The Mirror Adds Ten Pounds' and I'll reference that pretty regularly so it would probably be best if you read that first.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys this. :) I was so honored and pleased with the response I got for 'The Mirror Adds Ten Pounds'. It's easily received the most kudos of any of my works and every comment brought a smile to my face. I thought everyone would enjoy a sequel that documents what happens between the end of The Avengers and the Stark wedding that is about to happen at the end of the previous story. Thanks to everyone for reading my work. You make my life brighter.

Clint figures hiding out on his floor of Stark's tower is probably not what a responsible adult would do. The level of FUBAR that the latest alien invasion had reached though meant that a little skulking probably wouldn't go amiss. After the look of  ** _disappointment_** that fucking Captain America had given him when they managed to drag themselves painfully back home Clint didn't want to know what everyone elses reaction was.

  
After three days Clint figures the worst has probably past, plus he was getting really tired of his emergency stash of granola bars, and he headed towards the common area's kitchen.  It was pretty late (early?) and he figured if he timed it just right he could slip in and out without meeting anyone.  Steve was probably pummeling punching bags and Tony was in his lab and everyone else would hopefully be asleep.

His lack of sleep and maybe slightly concussed head meant that he had failed to take into account JARVIS' complete inability to mind his own business.

The kitchen was dimly lit, the only light coming from a pendant light that illuminated a small portion of the table.  Coulson was waiting patiently in this small pool of light and Clint nearly turned on his heels and fled as soon as he caught sight of the older man. 

About a month after everyone had moved into the Tower Fury had nonchalantly strolled out of the elevator pushing a wheelchair that contained a stone faced Phil Coulson.

Clint's sure that the street, an ungodly number of floors down, had heard the cacophony that had erupted from everyones throats when they had caught sight of Coulson.

Coulson had smiled slowly as he was surrounded by everyone and when Steve had clapped a friendly paw down on his shoulder Clint had been sure that the man's face would burst into flame.

Clint bit his lip as he slunk into the kitchen.

Coulson definitely looked healthier than when he had first been released from Medical but his thin hair was a wild mass of cowlicks and he was wearing pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt.  JARVIS had obviously woken him up to tell him about Clint's attempt at a food run. The dark room helped to disguise the fact that he was still in a wheelchair. 

"Barton."

Clint hid a wince and just kept going towards the refrigerator.  If he had to deal with a lecture this late at night he was definitely going to get some food out of the whole ordeal.

Clint eyed the cherry pie that had been placed invitingly in the front of the fridge.

_Fat asses don't get anywhere_

_  
_He grabs a cherry yogurt and a spoon before he takes a seat across from Coulson, he knows his face is in shadow.

  
He eats the yogurt slowly keeping his gaze fixed on the small container rather than the older man's face.

"Sir."

Coulson sighs and pinches his nose gently as though he is trying to fend off a headache.

"Mind telling me what the hell happened today?"

Clint hunched down lower in his seat and spooned up another mouthful of yogurt.

"My ear piece broke.  I didn't realize that the plan had changed."

Coulson's eyes seemed to cut through the darkness and Clint had to fight against squirming in his chair like a toddler.

"Rogers said that he warned you repeatedly that Stark was going to hit the building."

"I'm fine."

Coulson's gaze was less than forgiving.

"You fell off a multi-story building."

"And yet here I am."

"I want an explanation."

"He was on my right."

Coulson's forehead furrowed in confusion.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Clint finally looked up and his own face crumpled in confusion.

"I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

Clint leaned forwards and turned so that Coulson could see the right side of his head.

"See this?"

He traced a hand across a sharp scar that cut it's way across the top of his cheek and into his ear.

"Yes."

"I got whacked pretty good when I was a kid, it busted my ear up internally, I can barely hear an explosion on this side."

Coulson leaned forward with a grunt and gently grasped Clint's chin tilting his head so his ear was brought more fully into the light.

The warm dry fingers seemed to brand Clint's skin and he fought against the conflicting urges to both lean into the touch and rip his face away.

When Coulson finally leaned back into his wheelchair Clint felt disappointment rise in his chest before he tamped it back down.

"Why didn't you tell Medical?  They would have had you fitted with a hearing aid years ago."

Clint snorted.

"I thought you knew.  You came up on my bad side when you shot me.  I figured if you knew everyone, including Medical, knew."

Coulson frowned.

"Is that why you tilt your head when you're tired?"

"I've been trying to get a hold of that for years.  I know it makes me look like a goddamn moron."

"No it doesn't."

Clint waved his spoon in denial before he scraped the last of the yogurt up and popped it into his mouth with a pleased hum.

"I have an appointment tomorrow.  Come with me.  Medical can take a look and we'll see about setting you up with some sort of hearing aid."

"Yeah...no."

Clint tossed the empty container across the entire length of the kitchen so that it landed neatly in the small slot of the trash can, the spoon was flung at the same time in the opposite direction and landed neatly in the sink.

"I'm heading to bed.  See you tomorrow sir."

"Barton."

Coulson's voice was a deep bark that made Clint freeze.

"That wasn't a request.  Until we can get this problem under control I'm sidelining you from any further missions."

"Sir!"

Coulson's face was stony as Clint spun back around in protest.

"The appointments at 0900."

Coulson moved his power wheelchair backwards smoothly before he moved it forwards and slid up next to Clint.  He pulled himself to his feet with a grunt of effort that made Clint clench his fists anxiously.

"I promise you Barton; this changes nothing."

"That's obviously not true."

Coulson leaned in close and pulled Clint into a loose embrace.

Clint could feel the way every muscle in his body went taut in shock.

The taller man's breath was warm against Clint's left ear as he leaned in and whispered.

"Wanting what's best for you doesn't mean I don't respect you."

Clint let himself lean into the warm hug for a single moment before he gently disengaged and guided Coulson back into his wheelchair.

"I'll see you at 0830."

As Clint fled the room he didn't dare look Coulson in the face.

* * *

The car ride the next morning is a quiet one.

Clint leans back into one of the corners of the backseat and keeps his gaze fixed on the passing buildings and people.

Coulson had smiled warmly at him before burying his nose back into what Clint suspected was Stark's version of a Kindle as Clint slipped into the handicap accessible van at exactly 0830.

Exiting the van when they reached the SHIELD operated hospital was a little more involved as the driver had to unclip the bars that had kept the wheelchair from moving.  Coulson then had to maneuver the chair until it was on the specific portion of the floor that would gently set him down on the concrete next to the van. Once he had done so the driver pulled up a couple more guard rails and pushed the button that worked the floor piece.

They were on their way quickly afterwards and Clint strolled alongside his Handler.  He had to shorten his stride to keep up with the mechanized wheelchair but he didn't want to leave the older man behind.

Coulson finally broke the silence.

"Don't get me wrong I'm thankful that Stark gave me this thing; but you would think he could have managed internet access."

"If he had given you internet access you'd be checking your e-mail."

"And?"

"And you're supposed to be resting sir, not doing paperwork."

"I find paperwork restful."

"You would sir."

They slip into the elevator and Coulson pulls a small key out of one of his suit's pockets.  After he twisted it into the fireman's key he taps a code using the floor numbers.  The elevator starts moving with a jolt and they start going down past the basement level of the hospital.

Clint winces as the doors open up on the underground level of the hospital that SHIELD controlled.

There are a pair of nurses waiting and Clint just knows that one of them is for him so he won't be able to sneak out as easily.

Coulson raises an eyebrow and gently shoves Clint towards the blonde nurse before he rolls easily after the brunette.

"I'll see you in an hour or so Barton.  No vents."

"Sir!"

"You heard me.  Medical has told me all kinds of stories."

"Myths sir.  Nothing but myths."

Coulson's face is stony but Clint can see the way a corner of his mouth twitches as he fights against a smile.

"Nevertheless."

Clint turns back towards the nurse who's waiting patiently for him.

"Lead the way I guess."

"Shoes off and we'll get your weight."

Clint cringed as he shucked off his boots.  He hated this.

The nurse did a double take when she saw the weight on the scale and Clint hid a frown. 

He'd have to stick to salads again for a while.

"All right Agent Barton. You'll be in room 4. Please put the gown on, your doctor will be here in a moment."

"I just need him to check my ear." Clint protested.

"Agent Coulson insisted that you needed a full work up because of some injuries that you received from jumping off of a building."  The nurse sounded distinctly unimpressed.

She did work for SHIELD, Clint was sure that she had heard far worse.

Clint went reluctantly into the small examination room and stripped down to his boxers before he pulled on the gown that was draped across the small bed.  The wait as always seemed interminable before the door swung open with a gentle knock.  The doctor that came through reminded him of the steely eyed bearded lady that had worked at the Circus; she had been known for 'accidentally' whacking some of the more handsy Circus workers in the groin.  Clint felt his knees clench together against his will.

The diminutive woman is reading a chart that he assumes is his and she's frowning at it's contents.  When she finally looks up at him Clint doesn't like the expression on her face.

"Agent Barton. I'm Doctor Gilbert."

"Ma'am."

"Agent Coulson informed me that you've had ongoing hearing problems, but I'd like to give you a regular work up first so that we can see what sort of damage your latest adventure has inflicted on you."

Clint clenches his jaw but nods tightly in resigned agreement.

The examination is thorough and Clint has to grind back several yelps of pain as Gilbert presses against the bruises that his leap from the building had given him.  When she's finally finished Clint jerks his gown back up over his shoulders with an irritable huff.

"All right, now for your ear."

Gilbert popped a sterilized cap on a cone shaped light and leaned in close to Clint's right ear.

She was quiet for several moments and when she pulled back her face was stretched into a frown.

"How long ago did you receive this blow to your head?"

Clint thought about that for a moment.

"A little over thirty years ago."

"You were 3?"

Clint raised a single eyebrow.

Gilbert shrugged.

"What happened?"

"As far as I can remember I got a hand mirror smashed into my head."

Gilbert's eyes narrowed before she regained her composure.

"How much can you hear out of that ear?"

"Mostly really loud noises. Although that could just be my other ear, I can't really tell."

"Well it doesn't look like surgery would be of much help at this point, however we should be able to fit you with a hearing aid."

Clint huffed a sigh.

"Yeah cause that won't be the first thing someone grabs for in a fight."

"We have several types of hearing aids that have almost no external components; they should be almost impossible to remove without your participation."

"Fine. So give me one."

"We'll need to give you a hearing test first."

Clint sighed even more deeply.

"What the hell, I guess today can't get much more annoying than it already is, bring it on."

When Clint marched out of the small room that Doctor Gilbert had led him to Coulson was waiting for him.  He thanked God that at least he was back in his regular clothes.

The small doctor held out a hand and Clint shook it perfunctorily before he retreated behind Coulson's chair.

She smiled gently at him.

"Your hearing aid will be ready for pick up in a week or so Agent Barton."

"Yeah, great."

"You'll need to come back in and I'll teach you how to put it in and we'll get it all set up for you."

Clint nodded tersely and avoided looking Coulson in the face.

Gilbert turned her face towards Coulson.

"You're his handler correct?"

Coulson nodded slowly.

Clint frowned.

"So what if he is."

"It means that I'll need to tell him as well as you the new information that we've gathered both from your physical as well as your hearing examination. So both of you need to come with me."

Gilbert led them into her office and Clint forced himself to sprawl comfortably in the chair, even though he had to hide another wince from the careless move.

Coulson gave him a sharp look and Clint widened his eyes innocently.

Gilbert tapped her pen gently against the desk and both men's faces swung to face her.

Her face was serious as she flipped to the front of Clint's folder.

"The hearing aid should definitely assist you with your hearing loss.  If it doesn't work we'll look into cochlear implants but we won't have to worry about that for at least a couple of months if at all."

"Great." Clint grunted as he began to stand up. "So let's get out of here boss."

"Hold it." Gilbert's voice was sharp and Clint dropped back into his seat with a defeated thud.

"What?  I don't have any broken bones, maybe a slight concussion which I know how to deal with, and some bruises what else is there?"

"You're nearly twenty pounds under weight."

"What? You're crazy."

Gilbert frowned at him.

"I'll need to do a full body x-ray..."

"Which isn't going to happen."

"but it looks like you've been underweight for quite some time and if you continue in this vein I wouldn't be surprised if you started to have more serious health problems." Gilbert continued doggedly.

"Bullshit." Clint snarled.

"Barton!"

"No sir this is bullshit.  Underweight, hah!"

Gilbert raised both of her eyebrows.

"Are you saying you think you're overweight?"

Coulson's voice was quiet but something thrummed in his tone that brought Clint's head snapping around.

"I'm saying I'm fine."

"As a medical professional I am saying you are not.  You need to add a lot of protein to your diet if you want to keep up your muscle mass.  Eggs, almonds, salmon, yogurt, beef that sort of thing."

Coulson leaned towards Gilbert voice serious.

"If he doesn't gain weight what are some of the side effects he could expect?"

"Fainting spells, heart palpitations, other permanent types of organ damage.  This isn't something you want to mess with Agent Barton."

Clint shook his head in denial.

"I've been eating like this since I was a teenager."

"Yes and that type of starvation diet was definitely not good for you, but you can't tell me you're not doing more physically draining things since you joined the Avengers.  At this point I am marking your folder.  I can't recommend that you go on any sort of mission until after you gain at least fifteen pounds.  More would be better."

"What?"

"You're in danger of collapse.  If you lose any more weight I will make sure that you are hospitalized and given intravenous fluids.  If that happens I'll recommend psychological testing before you can go back in the field."

Clint snarled and tried to stand up again so he could storm from the room.  The only thing that kept him in his seat was the feeling of Coulson's warm hand as it gently encircled his bare wrist.

"If you could give me a diet plan I'll make sure he follows it."

Gilbert passed Coulson a folder of papers before she regained her feet.

"That's everything that I needed to pass along for the moment.  Like I said the hearing aid should come in in about a week and you'll need to come back for a weigh in in a month or so."

Coulson nodded gently before he added the folder to the briefcase that he kept at his side.

"We'll see you in a week then."

Clint averted his eyes and bit his lip.

As he slunk back towards the elevator Clint stayed well behind Coulson's back so that he didn't have to see the older man's expressions.  How worthless did he have to be that he couldn't even figure out how to feed himself.

The elevator door closed behind them and Coulson quickly slotted the key back in and pressed the buttons.  They slid back towards the surface in uncomfortable silence and Clint stayed in the rear corner.

When they slid back into the van Clint tried in vain to find a corner that Coulson couldn't see him from.  He finally settled for sitting as far away from his handler as possible.

"Barton...Clint."

Clint started violently as Coulson called him by his first name. 

He looked hesitantly at the older man.

"Come here."

He slid over to Coulson's side, but he kept his head down and turned to the right so that Coulson's words couldn't hit him in his good ear.

Warm fingers slid around the back of his neck and Clint shivered helplessly as the dry pads stroked through the short strands of hair on his neck and tugged him closer.

Their foreheads were gently pressed together and Clint let his eyes flutter closed so that he could savor the feeling.

"We'll figure this out."

"How sir?  Apparently I can't even take care of myself."

Clint could feel Coulson's...Phil's muscles tensing as though he was steeling himself for something.

Phil's lips met his gently in a sweet dry kiss that only lasted for a moment.

"Don't worry.  I'll help you."

Phil wound his arms around Clint's shoulders and brought him even closer so that Clint was on his knees next to the wheelchair and their chests were pressed together.

Clint let his head fall to Phil's uninjured shoulder as he bit back a sob and let himself collapse, just a little bit, into the older man's arms.

* * *


End file.
